


Binding

by agamous (apetala)



Series: Tightropes [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: All the Hurt and No Comfort, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dark Gerard, Dirty Talk, Gerard being generally not nice, M/M, Mpreg, Poor Neymar wishes he was a real pairing with Cris, please heed the warnings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 06:19:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11351631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apetala/pseuds/agamous
Summary: A side chapter for Tightropes, following Cristiano after being abducted.Not compliant with the original series universe!





	Binding

**Author's Note:**

> Please note the warnings and tags!

“No!” Cristiano gasped, as Gerard lifted him over his shoulder, the sound of the crew leering and shouting in his ears. 

 

It was a doomed fight from sheer numbers alone. Cristiano could have fought circles around Gerard, who was brute strength but also stupidity personified. But in close quarters and other men closing in, Cristiano was knocked off his feet. He was nearly up in an instant, but it wasn’t enough. 

 

Other hands held his wrists down, someone kicked at his face, and then Gerard knocked the man who did it down, hissing at him not to mar Cristiano’s face. “Enough, idiot. He can’t fight us anymore. He’s sport now.” 

 

Cristiano’s breathing became quick and shallow, and he fought the arms that held him in a desperate fury. Their grip only strengthened, grinding the bones of his wrists brutally until he stopped struggling, the others hooting and jeering at him. “Look at the fight in him still.” 

 

Cristiano scanned the men quickly. There was a group of common muscle, locals easily picked up and discarded, people he had never seen before. But there were also a few familiar faces, and Cristiano gritted his teeth at the sight of them. 

 

“What should we do with him now?” Someone asked, licking his lips. 

 

“Why don’t we see what we’ve caught? Give us a taste.” Someone supplied. 

 

And then Gerard stepped over Cristiano, kneeling over him, and the expression on his face chilled Cris’s blood. Without a word, Gerard’s meaty fists gripped the neck of Cristiano’s shirt, and tore it like tissue paper, exposing Cristiano to the crowd around them, exposing the diamond piercings that caught the light of the sun.

 

The men around them howled at the sight, calling Cristiano a whore, others begging Gerard to let them play with Cris now. “Fuck Geri.” one said as Gerard with a wide grin flicked a glittering piercing lazily with his thumbnail, watching Cristiano’s face darken into fury, before pinching the pink nub so hard that Cris nearly bit his tongue. “The slut’s giving me a chubby now. Let me just fuck his mouth until he chokes right now.” 

 

Other voices jeered the speaker down. “Man, just wait. He’s gonna give us all a turn eventually. If you’re that impatient just go downstairs and rub one out already.” 

 

But Gerard wasn’t done yet. With a final rough pull of Cristiano’s nipple, he went on to unbutton and yank down Cris’s slacks, exposing the delicate dark lace of his panties, the pair he put on that morning while thinking of Bond, of how he was going to surprise him one last time that night, dreaming of a broad shouldered man with eyes like a predator with clever hands that Cris knew so well. 

 

But now exposed like this, spread eagled, nearly naked in front of slavering men who were nearly all aroused from the look of the tightness of their trousers, Cristiano couldn’t help the tears stinging his eyes in humiliation and fear. 

 

“You’d better take him away now.” Someone said quietly to Gerard. Despite the soft voice in the jeering of the group, everyone heard him. “Get him ready.” 

 

Gerard looked as though he wanted to argue, but instead obeyed the man without a word. He grasped Cristiano about the waist, and lifted him over his shoulder as easily as if Cris had been a lamb. 

 

Cris scrabbled for purchase on Gerard’s back but it was no use—he was trapped, a captive, and he felt too many hands on him, caressing the back of his thighs, groping his ass, trying to pull down his panties, as Gerard stalked down the deck and downstairs, into the cabin. 

 

* * *

 

“You’re a fool.” Cristiano hissed at Gerard as he strode through the darkened hallway. “I’ll kill you if you lay hands on me. I’ll kill myself first before I ever entertain you and your friends willingly.” 

 

“No you’re not.” Gerard said cheerfully, patting Cris on the ass. “Because I know a little secret about you.” 

 

“You know nothing.” 

 

They reached the room, and Gerard opened the door. Cris felt Gerard stride inside, and he himself saw a fairly nondescript doorway before the world turned, and Gerard without ceremony tossed him down, Cris’s back landing on the softness of a bed, Gerard’s arm bracketing around Cristiano and his face suddenly too close to Cris’s. 

 

“I saw your son, Cris.” Gerard said . 

 

Cristiano stiffened. 

 

“He’s a real cute little guy. Always running around, jumping on furniture, that type of thing. Asks about you sometimes, wonders where his dad is.” 

 

Gerard’s hand lifted off the covers, and palmed up Cristiano’s belly, to play with a piercing, pinching and rolling, Gerard watching Cris’s face closely. 

 

“Wonder if he knows what his father is. If he knows what you’ve done here, to survive. A whore who can’t keep his legs shut to save his life. Dirtying his panties with other men’s cum down his legs. A hot, willing hole that takes any man’s cock and loves it.” 

 

Cristiano stared back at Gerard, not a flit of emotion across his face. 

 

“It’d be so easy to ruin his life.” Gerard went on, a feral smile on his face. “You have so many enemies, Cris. So many. All I would have to do is speak a word.” 

 

Cristiano remained silent. 

 

Gerard moved in closer, Cris stone faced, while Gerard lightly traced the margins of a love bite on his neck, before pulling Cris closer by the shoulder to bite at the same place. “It’s nothing for you to put on something nice and pretty for tonight, is it? Something silky. And I like red.” 

 

* * *

 

Cristiano was shaking all over, a bone deep chill that weighed down his limbs, as Gerard touched him, admiring the deep glossy satin of the red lingerie and stocking set he had picked out for Cris, watching him with a predator’s eyes while Cris slowly changed into them, face burning the whole time but defiantly meeting Gerard’s eyes the whole time. 

 

True, his touch wasn’t rough. With a lazy smile, face lax and ugly with victory, Gerard was skimming his palms just over Cristiano’s shoulders, then down the plane of his back. It was uncharacteristically gentle of Gerard. 

 

Yet Cristiano’s skin burned with utter disgust at the featherlight sensation. It took everything Cristiano had to not lash out, not slit Gerard’s throat right there, let his body slump on the ground, to stop Gerard touching him. 

 

Cristiano bit his lip as Gerard’s hands ran all the way down to his waist. 

 

“Are you scared, baby?” Gerard breathed in his ear. “I can feel your tight little body trembling. It’s like this is your first time.” 

 

Cristiano fought back another wave of disgust, just barely turning his face from the wet hot breath in his ear. 

 

But Gerard saw. 

 

And in a moment Cristiano cried out, as Gerard’s hand whipped around to grasp him firmly by the back of the neck neck, pulling him back flush against Gerard’s body, a swine-strong hold that had Cristiano struggling for air against his attacker’s shoulder. His hands came up instinctively to shove Gerard back but it was like plucking at stone, blind panic starting to take over as Gerard’s scent filled his nose, acrid and iron, feeling the intrusion of his hand between his thighs pulling down his panties. He bit down a whimper as Gerard rumbled in his ear, arching his body in escape as Gerard punctuated his words with rough fingers spreading his ass apart.

 

“You’re fucking wet already. ” Gerard whispered. “What a whore. Spreading your legs for any man. And yet you’ve never even given me or my friends a taste.” 

 

Cristiano couldn’t help a small keen as Gerard’s blunt fingers suddenly pressed against his entrance, forcing inside him with no teasing or prep. 

 

“Shhh.” Gerard soothed. “It’s okay Cris. I’m just giving you what you want. What you whores always want. Just a little something to fill your hole before tonight starts.”

 

Far too quickly, Gerard was forcing another thick finger inside of him, until he had three fingers quickly thrusting inside Cristiano, Cristiano who couldn’t bear to look at Gerard any longer, fingers gripping livid white, digging into Gerard’s chest. 

 

“You love it baby? You want more?” Gerard breathed, laving Cristiano’s ear, his grip on the back of Cristiano’s neck like a vise. “I know you like it rougher, but you have to be patient, just for me, okay? You’re going to be so special for all of us. A good little fuck hole, begging for it. Give us a nice little show. And if you’re really good, we’ll even prep you before we stuff you full.”

 

Tears blurred his eyes as his ass was filled, too hard and too fast, Gerard’s movement’s mocking fucking him, fast thrusts inside of him that hurt, trapped and unable to do anything but take it, let Gerard whom he always despised, play with his body like a doll. 

 

“No.” Cristiano whispered.

 

“None of that.” Gerard said with an especially vicious thrust of his fingers, Cristiano jolting from the sensation as Gerard forced himself deeper. “Fucking whore. You’ve been testing all of our patience. We’ve all been watching you slut around, grinding your ass on men’s laps just cockteasing everyone. And I swear to God if you give us any attitude we’ll just tie you down and fuck you all night. It’s just the same to me. See you squealing like a girl while every man on here has you, over and over, just like you’ve always wanted.” 

 

There was still some slick from earlier, Bond and him fucking lazily and easily in the morning, Bond with his fiery kisses and tender eyes, holding Cristiano as if he was something precious, something to be protected. And Cristiano had loosened up some from all the marathon sex him and Bond had been up to the past two days. 

 

It still wasn’t enough for this. His head was spinning, the sensation of invasion forced against his will triggering old memories, of being trapped, of being helpless. Cristiano dazedly didn’t realize he was biting the inside of his cheek until the taste of blood filled his mouth.

 

Finally Gerard had enough of finger fucking Cristiano, and withdrawing his fingers, released and shoved him back to the bed. Cristiano, dazed, his legs weak, fell on the covers. Head spinning, he looked up to see Gerard wiping his hand clean on a handkerchief. Gerard’s eyes were still on Cristiano, the burning gaze of a beast with a long denied feast before him as Cristiano weakly tried to get up on his elbows, legs still splayed open before Gerard and panties shackling his thighs.

 

“Clean yourself up.” Gerard tossed the handkerchief at Cristiano. “Don’t ruin your panties before tonight.” 

 

* * *

 

Cristiano was left alone, locked into the bedroom Gerard had left him in, for a long time. 

 

The hours passed by slowly, and painstakingly so. 

 

When Gerard had left, Cristiano had spent a minute dizzy with emotion, before heaving himself off the bed and punching the door so hard that he split the skin of his knuckles. The pain distracted from the feeling of invasion, that phantom sensation of Gerard’s disgusting fingers shoving between his legs.

 

That being done, he had surveyed the room, with little hope, and found none. They had left him escape routes, and no possible weapons. And even if he could bring down some men before the alarm was raised, and escape the ship, and swim to shore—

 

Gerard knew his secret. 

 

Cristiano took a shuddering breath, and collapsed on the ground, shaking as if he had chills. 

 

He must have fallen asleep like that, his eyes closing shut, crumpled on the ground.

 

* * *

 

When Cristiano woke, it was as if he was floating. 

 

Or more specifically, he _was_ floating, submerged in hot bathwater, scented with an floral bath soap. It felt good, his limbs relaxed in the still water, the warmth surrounding his body.

 

“You’re awake.” 

 

Cristiano startled, his training taking over, except that his limbs were strangely weak and his head was still swimming, but a hand settled over his own hand that was gripping the tub rim, and Cristiano forced himself to breathe in, slowly, in and out, steeling himself to calm down and assess the situation. 

 

It was one of the faces from earlier, a youth with a rooster puff of blonde hair, serious dark eyes that never left Cristiano’s face, as he kneeled next to him with his palms out.

 

“It’s okay. It’s just me here, and I’m not going to hurt you.” The boy’s face was earnest, his eyes never leaving Cristiano’s. His thumb began to rub gentle circles on Cristiano’s, in an attempt to soothe him. 

 

Cristiano had to force himself not to jerk his hand away. 

 

“What am I doing here. And who are you?” Cristiano asked between gritted teeth. 

 

“My name's Neymar.” The youth said, simply. “Leo assigned me to take care of you and keep guard. Geri said to make sure you were cleaned up. For tonight.” 

 

Cristiano noted that Neymar was flushing, his gaze skittering now between Cris’s face and the ground. 

 

“What does ‘taking care of me’ mean.” Cristiano asked, his expression unreadable. 

 

“Just. Making sure your needs are met. Keeping the men that Leo did not give permission, away from you.” If anything, Neymar was starting to blush furiously now, a flush underneath that was spreading to his ears. 

 

“What if I want to bathe myself, alone?” 

 

Neymar’s thumb stopped its movement. “I can’t allow that.” Neymar replied, a touch of steel in his voice. “Leo specifically said I was not to let you out of my sight here.” 

 

“I see.” Cristiano said, in a musing tone. “Leo’s orders.” 

 

There was a silence, Neymar staring at Cristiano very stilly, with one hand lowered to his belt, where Cristiano did not doubt he had a gun holstered. Cristiano, for his own part, made sure to keep himself still, and small. Maintain the appearance of him being weak and helpless. Make his captor think he was docile. 

 

Cristiano let a single tear fall down from his lashes, spilling down his cheek, falling down into the water in a barely perceptible plink, and letting his lashes fall. He heard a sigh, and felt, by the minute shift of pressures of Neymar’s hand on his own hand, that his guard had relaxed. 

 

“If I’m not allowed to wash myself alone, then you’d better hurry and do it.” Cristiano said, in a small fragile voice. His body language stiffened and grew even more guarded, as he hunched over, his other arm cradling his knees to his chest, his legs clamping shut tight. Cristiano allowed himself to shiver minutely, as if recalling vivid memories. 

 

“It’s all right, Cristiano.” Neymar had leaned in even closer. Cristiano felt the touch of a thumb underneath his chin, lifting his head up and to the side to face Neymar, whose eyes were bright with sympathy and understanding. “It’s okay. I’ll be gentle. You don’t have to be afraid.”

 

Cristiano was suddenly filled with the desire to bite Neymar’s thumb down to the bone, but quelled the impulse. Instead he forced himself to smile at the youth, a small and broken thing, as Neymar got a cloth ready with soap to wash Cristiano’s body down. 

 

As Neymar began rubbing down Cristiano’s shoulders and back, Cris bit at his bottom lip, hunching over even more, as if he was afraid, watching how Neymar’s gaze never left Cristiano’s swollen, bitten mouth as he worked his way down. When Neymar was done with his back, he reached over, firmly moving Cris’s arm away from cradling his chest from view, murmuring more soothing words in the line of “It’s all right.” and “I won’t hurt you.” as he soaped down Cristiano’s front now. 

 

“Now.” Neymar’s hand raised in the air, and then just barely skimmed above Cristiano’s thigh, Cris feeling the hot heat from his outraised hand. “Cristiano, I need to clean you…there. ”

 

Cristiano shook his head, his own hand reaching up to hold Neymar’s still. “Don’t. Please. That I can do myself.”

 

But Cristiano could see how Neymar’s breathing had already slightly increased, heard the way his voice had gotten a touch rougher, saw how the youth’s pupils had dilated, made his eyes darker. “Cristiano. You mustn’t misbehave.”

 

And Cristiano had to bite his tongue, bite down hard, as he weighed the consequences in an instant, that moment’s precision of a deadly dance between matador and bull, the flicker of red that could make a placid beast turn mad in an instant, could tear down all the quicksilver and cunning of the bullfighter with simple brute strength and goring. 

 

Cristiano knew that if he denied the boy something as little as this, there was nothing stopping him from taking all of his body against his will, beyond Cristiano’s pleading or tears.

 

And the boy wanted a facsimile of honest surrender, of a cheap masquerade of love. A concession here and there, and he would be like clay in Cristiano’s hands, so easily molded and sculpted. 

 

It was only that every instinct in Cristiano was screaming danger, was screaming at Cristiano to keep himself free, to not allow anyone else’s hands between his legs again, to touch him again like that, like he was a whore for anyone’s taking—

 

Neymar leaned in closer, his voice pitched in a raspy whisper, his hand now sliding between Cristiano’s clamped thighs, sliding lower between them. “You can do this for me Cristiano. I know you can.” 

 

And Cristiano, with the iron taste of blood in his mouth, and tears blurring his eyes, let Neymar pry his thighs open. 

 

His thighs shook frankly and honestly, fighting uselessly against the boy’s iron grip, as the washcloth swiped between his legs, scrubbing the residue of the other men’s seed from his inner thighs and lower belly. The roughness of the cloth against his cock, balls, and entrance made Cristiano squirm in discomfort, Neymar again making sure to clean him thoroughly, the sensation of friction more oversensitive than pleasurable. 

 

There was the sudden sound of loud pounding on the bathroom door. “Oi, Ney! Are you two done already?” 

 

And Cristiano began shaking all over, not pretending at the honest panic racing through his body, at the sound of Gerard’s voice at the door, waiting for him just outside. He gripped hard at Neymar’s hand, willing him to stop. Fortunately for Cris, Neymar didn’t seem to mind, looking up to look at Cris’s face, before neatly withdrawing the washcloth without a word. Neymar turned to face the door to call out. 

 

“We’re coming out now.” Neymar tugged Cristiano up, pulling down a towel to dry Cris with. 

 

“Well hurry up, I want to see our slut already. I’ve been rock hard for half an hour and I know he’s due to get plowed.”

 

* * *

 

 

Gerard didn’t give a shit if he was hurting Cristiano or not. 

 

He didn’t care about being gentle with him. As soon as Cristiano walked out of the bathroom, led out by Neymar, Gerard had strode over, easily lifting Cristiano in a captive’s carry over his shoulder, carrying Cris out of his room, down a series of hallways, carrying Cris into Gerard’s own bedroom, and dumping Cristiano on the bed, before climbing on top of Cristiano with his trousers bulging with his straining erection. 

 

He left the door open, open so that other men, passing by, could pause by the doorway. A sizeable crowd of them whistled and licked their lips as Gerard easily turned Cristiano over, seating himself on top of him while capturing both of Cristiano’s wrists and tying them behind his back with his belt. With a large hand on the back of Cristiano’s neck, Gerard shoved Cristiano’s head down into the mattress, forcing him facedown on the bed while pulling Cris’s hips high up in the air and getting his knees on the bed. Cristiano heard the shouts and lewd catcalls as his ass was exposed to the air for everyone to see, and closed his eyes hard, feeling the hot tears burn into the sheets,.

 

Despite Neymar’s thorough attention to cleaning his cock and balls, Cris’s ass was still slick and wet from the last few days with Bond, and when Gerard’s cock began to ruthlessly press against his sore entrance, Cristiano shuddered as he was breached, hearing the howl of the men watching them. 

 

“You want this, slut?” Gerard crooned from behind him, his cock suddenly surging roughly into Cristiano, making him gasp and thrash underneath him, the volcanic burning of Gerard’s cock forcing itself into Cristiano’s body like a white hot knife. “You love being whored in front of everyone, being on display like this?” 

 

“No.” Cristiano cried softly, the tears stinging his eyes from pain, his body being rocked obscenely with every thrust, rucking the sheets around his knees and shoving Cris nearly to the headboard. “No—“ 

 

“Don’t lie to me, you little cockslut.” Gerard smacked Cristiano’s ass, hard, the sound reverberating over the sound of the other men’s whistling. “Look at your ass, so wet and open you’re ruining the sheets. Swallowing up every inch of my dick so desperately. You can’t wait to get fucked by everyone. You’re not going to be nice for me until I blow my load into you, huh?” 

 

“Don’t worry baby. I got what you need.” Gerard was thrusting into Cristiano’s limp body hard enough to knock Cristiano’s head against the headboard, Gerard ramming deep in Cristiano now that Cris’s body had stopped resisting him but now only bonelessly let him in, come leaking down into the sheets even faster, the invasion of his cock lewdly stuffing him to the brim of his limits, of his sanity, as the friction and rhythm of Gerard’s cock driving deeper and deeper into him began to pull Cristiano into a familiar place, Cris melting underneath Gerard’s assault, as his skin began to tingle and every nerve in his belly and ass on fire, igniting a slow, unwilling, but inevitable build, Cris’s own cock rock hard and leaking copiously into the sheets. 

 

Cristiano heard himself keening, felt himself writhing, nothing else in the world except Geri fucking him, trying to shove his own hips back with every thrust, fucking himself on Geri’s cock. 

 

But it still wasn’t quite enough, Cristiano just barely still on the edge of his peak but not yet falling over, unable to reach his own cock and blessedly pull until his release. 

 

“Geri please!” Cristiano keened. “Touch me, oh God, please—“ 

 

Gerard laughed. “You better beg nicer than that if you want to come, cockslut. Go on, tell me in front of everyone how much you love my cock. Tell them how no one else fucks you as sweet as me.” 

 

“Fuck!” Cristiano yelped as Gerard’s next thrust rammed against a tender spot, much abused and stinging hurt but the pain of it nothing next to the pleasure of being fucked. “Fuck you!” Cristiano hissed. 

 

“No, that’s not begging, you stupid little cockslut.” Gerard said sadly. “Maybe I’ll just tie you down and stuff your sweet little ass with a vibrator. Leave you there crying for hours and hours. See how much you feel like begging for it then.” Gerard viciously thrust against that same spot inside Cris again and again, until Cris was mewling with every pump of his cock. “Well?” 

 

Cristiano heaved a sob then, shaking his head desperately. “Geri no!” 

 

“Cris, baby, you gotta be good for me then.” Gerard coaxed. “Let everyone hear you beg.” 

 

Cristiano shook his head desperately, but Gerard gripped Cris by his waist, arresting his movement, Cris sobbing as he desperately tried to shove his hips back to fuck himself deeper on Gerard’s cock, Gerard stilling as he withdrew nearly his entire slick length, leaving just the head of his cock just barely inside of Cristiano’s ass. 

 

“Go on, Cris. Say it. Beg for my cock. Beg me to fuck you until you come.” 

 

Cristiano was moaning openly now, trying to force his hips back, but it was no use, Gerard had him just the way he wanted, so easily, and Cris’s body was incinerating into ash, desperate to come, but he couldn’t beg, he couldn’t—

 

“Cris.” Gerard’s voice was almost sweet, whispering at his ear. “Don’t make me tell everyone your little secret.”

 

And Cristiano sobbed out loud, ugly sounds hitching in his chest and throat, crying into the sheets, but it was no use, no use at all, and now all he could do was beg, and beg as sweetly as he could. 

 

“Geri I want your cock so bad. Geri please, fuck me.”

 

“That’s a nice try, but you can do better than that, baby.” Geri purred. 

 

Cristiano cried, more tears spilling out of his eyes, his cock twitching and beading more precome that leaked into the sheets as he pleaded. “Geri fuck, don’t leave me like this, I want your massive cock in me so bad, I want your load in me, I want you to fuck me so hard that your come fills me all the way up, I don’t want anyone else, fuck, Geri please.” 

 

“Better, but still not enough.” Gerard withdrew all the way out of Cristiano’s ass, the movement unbalancing Cris who fell over on his side, tears blurring his vision of Gerard about to step off the bed. “Guess I’ll just leave you overnight with a vibrator in your ass.” 

 

“Geri!” 

 

And when Gerard had turned around, Cristiano was on his back, his thighs spread as wide as possible, his back arched, Cristiano staring at him with tearful, wet eyes as he exposed himself for all to see, biting his swollen bottom lip hard, his nipples hard and peaked as he begged with his body to be used. 

 

“Geri.” Cristiano whispered. “Please. I want you to fuck me.” 

 

Gerard was still for a moment as he gazed at Cristiano. 

 

And then he was climbing back onto the bed, between Cristiano’s willingly spread legs, and then Gerard without another word had lined himself up to ram himself inside of Cristiano, who moaned as Gerard thrust into him. 

 

“Don’t stop.” Cristiano whispered, tears rolling down his face.

 

And then Gerard was rolling him over, turning Cristiano on his belly, and then Cris felt rough fingers snarl themselves into his hair, and Gerard roughly yanking his head back, so hard Cris thought he meant to tear his hair out, Geri’s hips brutally jamming into Cris who was caught by his hair, bobbing lasciviously on Geri’s cock, and then he felt Geri reach around his chest, fingers reaching, and then finding his piercing, and twisting it in a vicious movement, playing far too hard with Cristiano’s oversensitive nipples, except Geri kept rutting into Cris like an animal, Cris finding his mouth dropping open as Geri drilled wordless cries out of him, the utterly sweet and merciless enormous swell of Geri’s cock that was plunging in and out of him, Cris’s body tensing into an arch as the pain and ecstasy built into inevitable waves in his belly, as Geri forced Cristiano’s surrender. 

 

And surrender Cristiano did, in a scream, in one terrible arc of white out bliss, as Cris came and came, and still was spilling into the ruined sheets underneath him, as Gerard finally bit out a curse, and rammed his full length inside of Cris, Cristiano whimpering as he felt Gerard spilling his load, Cristiano’s body welcoming the hot wetness, spasming as his ass swallowed every bit of it hungrily. 

* * *

 

For the rest of the day, and the whole night following Gerard breaking Cristiano’s body in, he kept Cris in his bed, using him as a toy, spilling every load he could into Cristiano’s sore, desperate ass. 

 

Cristiano grew used to Gerard—the scent of him that filled the pillows and sheets, the way the scent grew strongest in the joining of his neck and shoulder, Cristiano biting into the soft pale fleshiness when Gerard fucked him on his back, the rough short bristles of Gerard’s hair, the overall grub-white paleness of Gerard’s skin, the odd brick red color of his nipples, how abysmally strong Gerard was and how easily he overpowered Cristiano, had Cris at his mercy with a weapon that so cruelly forced his surrender, each time. 

 

By the next morning, Gerard had managed to have him half a dozen times, and Cristiano was nearly dead from it. His ass was probably completely ruined from having to take that monster so many times, he thought to himself as he lay limply on the bed, Geri holding him close as if they were lovers, snoring into Cristiano’s neck. 

 

Cristiano dozed, and at one point heard knocking on the door, and felt Gerard disentangle himself from him, getting up and yawning as he opened the door. He vaguely heard the sound of conversation at the door, that went on for quite a bit of time, before Geri slammed the door shut, grumbling. 

 

“Get up.” Gerard smacked his hand on the mattress, ordering Cristiano up. “It’s time for the others to have their turn with you.”

 

* * *

 

In the same bathtub, Neymar took his time, making sure to scrub every inch of Cristiano clean and soapy, taking the time to lather Cristiano’s hair, and then brush in essential oil afterwards. 

 

“He said he doesn’t want you to stink of other men while you’re with him.” Neymar said apologetically, rubbing in lotion into Cristiano’s skin as well. 

 

As Neymar was about to rise, from rubbing in the last of the cream into Cristiano’s feet as he kneeled before Cris who was seated on the edge of the tub, Cris spoke, his voice rasping. “Aren’t you going to kiss me before I go?” 

 

Neymar looked up hurriedly, his face kindling a bright red. “Cristiano?” 

 

“I thought you’d give me at least one before I see your boss.” Cristiano stared at Neymar.

 

Neymar if anything seemed to flush all over, even more, but his eyes shone bright, catching the light, full of hope. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

 

Cristiano let himself flush, a sweet color that pinkened his own cheeks, travelling down into his chest. He looked up shyly at Neymar. “I’d like that.” 

 

Neymar didn’t need any further encouragement. He leaned in, and without another word, his mouth was pressing hard against Cristiano’s, licking his mouth, Cristiano automatically let his mouth part to let Neymar in. 

 

It was a rather wet kiss, Neymar’s technique more enthusiasm then skill. But Cristiano had done his fair share of honeypot missions before. It was easy to let his thighs part just so, inviting Neymar in, still snugly holding the boy in place, as if Cristiano was feeling a little shy. It was easy to moan softly against Neymar’s mouth as his tongue worked against Cris’s palate, as if Neymar was working him open and willing, as if Cris was slowly coming apart in his hands, so easily seduced. 

 

“I want you to make love to me.” Cristiano pulled away to whisper in Neymar’s ear. “No one else. Just you.” Cris’s voice was honey sweet and soft, but his expression, if Neymar had turned to look at him, was utterly flat and empty. 

 

“I want you too.” Neymar heaved, breathing too quickly, his overheated body flush against Cristiano’s naked one, and yet Cris had all the power here, it was easy to play with this boy puppet. 

 

“After Leo.” Neymar breathed. “After tonight. I’ll be in your room.”

 

“I’ll be ready for you.” Cristiano breathed in Neymar’s ear. “Although…”

 

“Although what?” Neymar turned quickly to face Cristiano. Cris could feel his erection tenting against his slacks, pressing into Cris’s hip insistently. 

 

“Do you have anything?” Cristiano said softly, looking down. “I look so terrible. I want to put on a show for you. You’ve been so kind to me. No one else here is like you.” 

 

“What do you need?” Neymar breathed, kissing the shell of Cristiano’s ear rather wetly. Cris had to fight down his urge to recoil from him. 

 

“I want to be pretty for you. I want to wear something special.” Cristiano held his breath, and waited. 

 

“I think there’s a few of your dresses around here somewhere.” Neymar sighed. “It’ll be easy to get ahold of one.”

 

“Bring the one you want to see me in.” Cristiano purred, arching his body against Neymar’s, a dreamy smile on his lips, his eyes closed, so Neymar couldn’t see the savage delight dancing in them. 

 

* * *

 

All too soon though, Cristiano had to tamp down his delight, and as he walked his way to Leo’s room, the feeling of joy dissipated completely in his chest. 

 

The thought of Leo, so easily handing him around like a party favor, and now about to toy with his body made him grit his teeth. 

 

They had always been rivals, ever since they had both started on the same day, with the Americans, young recruits always trying to outdo the other. Their other classmates learned early on to stay out of their rivalry, and soon it was a point of constant debate, who was better, Cristiano or Leo. 

 

Some of them argued for Cristiano, citing his incredible speed, his flexibility, his absolute deadliness in hand to hand combat, how easily he overwhelmed and outflanked his opponents, the tricks and feints up his sleeve that ensured that even when he was grossly outnumbered, Cristiano had successfully completed every one of his missions. Every one. Combined with his calmness under pressure, ability to think on his feet, and well-rounded strength in every skillset, meant that Cristiano quickly was promoted to leadership, leading team missions, oftentimes taking advantage using unorthodox methods to achieve his objectives.

 

Others argued that Leo was clearly the more talented agent of the two. Leo certainly fit in better with the image of the agency, quiet and observant, a face easily forgotten when seen, which was a real benefit in their line of work, where Cristiano was far more easily recognized. Leo was certainly never sent out to do even close to the number of honeypot missions that Cristiano was especially suited for, and that endeared him even more to an organization that for all its dealings, maintained a prudish stance towards using sex as a weapon. And certainly Leo was recognized by all to be fiendishly good with weapons, completing difficult shots and accumulating frankly ridiculously impossible kills as if they were child’s play. He usually let his teammates do the hard work first, softening the opposition, doing the infiltration, preferring to keep his on head down until he was needed—and then swept the field clean, developing fresh opportunities for his team to regroup and attack. 

 

That rivalry however hadn’t been the catalyst to sour their mostly professional relationship. It had been something else entirely. 

* * *

 

When Cristiano walked into Leo’s room, the man was sprawled out in front of the television on a sofa, watching some forgettable soap opera that was on. He didn’t even turn to look at Cris as he came in, taking a sip of soda he was balancing on his chest, Leo completely engrossed in his show. 

 

God, it was so easy to forget how ordinary Leo could be, Cristiano thought irritably, standing by the doorway, waiting for Leo to acknowledge him. Always stuffing his face with junk, even when they were supposed to be on an intense training regimen, conditioning for their next mission. 

 

No denying his influence, however. Cristiano had to grudgingly give him that much. Somehow, in the years when Cris had left the field to take care of his son, Leo had developed his own team of loyal followers, had left the Americans, and had risen to the highest ranks of Virgil’s organization. 

 

The soap opera on the screen finally cut out to commercial, and without glancing back at Cristiano, Leo gestured at Cris. Ordering him to come closer. 

 

Cristiano slowly walked up to the couch, rounding around it to face Leo, who finally flicked a glance up to look at Cris. There was a slight smile of amusement as Leo took in the sight of a fully nude Cristiano, standing straight in front of him, his eyes burning in a barely banked fury. 

 

“Showing up in your best, I see.” Leo drawled, taking another swallow of his soda. 

 

“Cut the chitchat.” Cristiano hissed. “Why am I even here? Last I heard, you don’t even like men.” 

 

“I still don’t.” Leo yawned, stretching his full length on the couch, which Cris noted rather viciously, wasn’t much at all. “But we’ve still got another day and a half until we reach our destination. As far as I’m concerned, a mouth is a mouth.” 

 

“Why are you even doing this.” Cristiano gritted out, as Leo sat up, unzipping his trousers. “Is this because of what happened at Munich?” 

 

“You were the one who went against orders, Cris.” Leo murmured as he freed his dick, still soft, nestled against a dark thatch of hair. “As far as Virgil’s concerned, you’re lucky we’re even bringing you back alive at all. I could have just handed you off to Luis and that would have been the end of all of this.” 

 

Cristiano inhaled sharply, and Leo glanced down to look at him. “You knew what happens to traitors.” 

 

“Now, enough of that talk.” Leo said, not unkindly, motioning Cristiano to get on his knees. “Hurry up and suck me off. The show’s going to start again soon, and you’re blocking the view.”

* * *

 

Leo for the most part left him strictly alone, not even pressing a hand against his head as Cristiano gingerly pressed his mouth to Leo’s cock, Leo’s legs widely sprawled to allow Cristiano to kneel between them. 

 

In fact, Leo seemed engrossed in his show, taking slow sips of Coke, his eyes never leaving the screen, even huffing a laugh at the comedic scenes. He appeared to not care about Cristiano at all. Cristiano had to raise his hand to help free more of Leo’s cock, still completely disinterested, and utterly soft in its nest. 

 

Did Leo expect him to stay on his knees all day, Cristiano thought angrily. Did he plan on humiliating Cris, having him work for hours at his cock, only to have Cris fail to even get him half hard, show him what an utter failure he was at even pleasing him? 

 

Cristiano closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. 

 

And then, his skin crawling, he grimly went about the business of pleasuring Leo. 

 

Firstly, Cristiano leaned in, breathing hotly on Leo’s cock, letting his lashes fall, taking a deep inhale as if he was a starving man, desperately dying of thirst. 

 

His hand snaked into Leo’s zipper, feeling for Leo’s balls, kneading them gently in his palm, as Cristiano began to wetly, sloppily, mouth at Leo’s cock. 

 

Cristiano thought he could feel a slight twitch on his mouth, a very ginger stirring. Above him, Leo remained silent, the only sound the fizzing of Leo’s soda as he took another sip. 

 

Cristiano let his mouth lave Leo’s cock all over, getting it slick and wet, focusing at first more on the shaft of it, soft and vulnerable, running his lips tenderly up and down it’s whole length. 

 

In a sudden fit of frustration, at Leo’s still unsatisfactory dick, Cristiano surged up, sinking his teeth in the soft whiteness of Leo’s lower belly that was revealed by the rucking of his shirt, a sharp nip just above the pubic bone, his nose buried into Leo’s nest. 

 

Cristiano felt Leo’s whole body twitch in surprise at that. And more than that, Cristiano felt the first definite stirrings of interest in Leo’s cock, starting to nudge him in the chin. 

 

“There we go.” Cristiano murmured in victory, smiling in delight as Leo’s cock began to finally fill out. “More of a grower than a shower, aren’t you.” 

 

“Shush.” Leo admonished, looking down on Cristiano, his eyes darkening, as Cristiano looked up at him through his lashes. “I’m watching something.” 

 

Cristiano tsked in annoyance, but continued working at Leo’s cock, patiently encouraging it, teasing the slit of the head with flicks of his tongue, letting his tongue press down firmer as Leo’s erection continued to fill out, finally starting to rise on its own. 

 

There was a vein starting to swell alongside Leo’s swelling cock, Cristiano leaving off teasing Leo’s head to mouth kisses alongside the length. Cris left off kisses for another moment to instead nuzzle at Leo’s cock, let its velvety length brush against his mouth and cheek, now bobbing with every tick of Leo’s pulse, engorging itself swollen, to a quite respectable girth. 

 

“Getting hard for me?” Cristiano teased lowly, before he returned to giving slick, open mouth kisses to Leo’s cock head, swirling his tongue, even adding a slight brush of teeth against the slick pinkness, Leo’s hips twitching at that little trick. 

 

Cristiano looked up to see Leo staring down at him bracketed between his legs, his full focus on Cris now, his eyes blown dark and wide now, but no other expression on his face, not even that of lust. 

 

“Enough of your teasing.” Leo’s voice had gotten rougher. “Hurry up and finish me off.” 

 

“And I thought my mouth was the same as any other.” Cristiano huffing a laugh, before parting his mouth, and in one full swallow, had taken down Leo’s cock down to the root. 

 

Cristiano was particularly proud of that trick, which had taken a great deal of trouble to master, not to mention overcome his gag reflex. It seemed to have paid off now, as Cristiano glanced up, to see Leo’s head tipped back on the sofa, panting lowly, his hips twitching minute thrusts into Cristiano’s mouth. 

 

Working slowly at first, Cristiano bobbed up and down Leo’s length torturously slow, keeping the suction light, Leo’s scent growing stronger in his nose as Leo’s cock began to leak arousal on Cristiano’s tongue, a familiar saltiness that had Cris’s eyes fluttering shut, as he lost himself in the sensation, Leo’s cock growing even more hard in his mouth, filling Cris’s mouth obscenely full, and Cris let instinct take over, began to work Leo’s cock faster and faster, as Leo’s cock thrust deeper into his throat, cutting off his air. 

 

Leo was completely silent even as his cock began to leak more and more precome, but Cristiano could read Leo’s silent cues, the way his abdomen heaved in and out, the way Leo’s legs twitched every time his cock bottomed out, ramming itself against the back of Cristiano’s throat. Leo was nearly close to his peak. 

 

So wickedly, Cristiano let Leo’s cock fall out of his mouth, with an obscene wet pop, enjoying the way Leo groaned, a hand now curling around Cristiano’s head, pushing him down, urging him on to keep sucking his cock.

 

And Cristiano complied, only he just let the head of Leo’s cock rest in his mouth, running his hand up and down Leo’s shaft as he latched his mouth firmly over the head, sucking down viciously hard while tonguing the slit rapidly, an intense suction and rhythm that had Leo’s hip jumping, Leo arching, Leo trying to hold Cristiano’s head down and fuck his mouth only Cristiano was stronger, was holding down Leo’s hips, reaching another hand into Leo’s trousers to tightly knead Leo’s balls, urging Leo to come in his mouth. 

 

And so he finally did, a bitter, hot spill on Cristiano’s tongue, filling his mouth, forcing Cristiano to swallow him down, the sensation of Cristiano’s mouth moving causing Leo to dig his fingers into Cristiano’s hair, holding him still, finally Cristiano overwhelmed by the sheer amount of come filling his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he was forced to swallow every drop, or drown in it. 

 

And then Leo pulled free from Cristiano’s mouth, his chest still heaving as he stared back down at Cris, his expression nearly senseless from pleasure.

 

“You love this.” He panted. Cristiano, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand, only lifted an eyebrow. 

 

“It was alright.” Cristiano replied archly. 

* * *

 

“Do you want me to leave?” Cristiano asked sleepily. 

 

Leo shook his head, still engrossed in his show. 

 

He shouldn’t be so off his guard, Cristiano mused to himself. 

 

But after all, what was there to be afraid of? Everyone on here had him at least once now. And if Leo had wanted to fuck him, he would have had him, whether Cris wanted to or not. 

 

And the fact of the matter was, Cristiano was fatigued. The last few days of stress and adrenaline and fear was getting to him, affecting his body. Leo had seen him starting to doze while still on his knees, waiting for Leo to pay attention to him, and without a word, had motioned Cris to get on the sofa. And Cristiano, bone tired, had climbed up, first sitting up, and then slowly, collapsing down the side, letting his head rest against the armrest, his eyes slowly fluttering shut as he tried to follow the soap opera that Leo was so engrossed in. 

 

The scene right now was of two people, caught in bed with each other, the angry girlfriend spitting fire and angry tears, as she waved a gun at them, shouting about how she knew her boyfriend was cheating on her with that rich skank, his boss’s daughter. 

 

“Do you remember Rio?” Leo’s voice floated out to Cristiano, cutting through his doze. 

 

“How could I forget him?” Cristiano replied, his eyes blinking open. “He was our mentor.” 

 

Leo huffed a laugh, a note of derision in the sound. “To me, he was a mentor. But apparently for you…” 

 

Cristiano groaned. “I knew this was all about Munich, after all.” 

 

“This isn’t about Munich.”

 

“Oh really?” Cristiano narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t look at me for months after you caught me and him in that storage closet. You refused to work with me on any missions after that. HR had to interview us both as to why you wouldn’t do a shared mission, and you told them, quote unquote, ‘I won’t work with a whore’.”

 

“I didn’t inform Virgil of your existence because of Rio, Cris.” Leo said testily. “I told him because you were truly were one of the best agents I’ve ever worked with. It’s your own fault if you’ve ruined things now with him.”

 

“My own fault.” Cristiano said bitterly. “I never chose to work with Virgil voluntarily, Leo. As far as I’m concerned, it was all your doing I got trapped into working with him.”

 

“What do you mean?” Leo turned to look at Cristiano, a look of quiet puzzlement in his eyes. 

 

“Nothing.” Cristiano spat. “Absolutely nothing.” 

 

There was another long silence, punctuated by the sound of gunfire as the angry girlfriend shot at her boyfriend’s paramour, the boyfriend leaping in front of the girl to save her, the now penitent girlfriend howling in sorrow, holding the boyfriends limp, bleeding body to her chest. The other girl was crying quiet tears, cradling her  slightly rounded belly gingerly, moaning to herself as she called an ambulance. 

 

Cristiano was so lost in the scene on the television, that he didn’t notice Leo offering him a slice of pizza from the table in front of them until Leo had to speak up twice. 

 

“Are you hungry?” Leo asked, again. Cristiano blinked, for a second lost as to where he was, what he was doing. 

 

“Yeah.” And he took the offered slice. The pizza was cold, and the cheese long hardened, and normally Cristiano didn’t allow himself to eat junk like this. 

 

But he hadn’t eaten in a few days, and so Cris gratefully wolfed down the slice, the greasy slice like heaven in his mouth, settling in his belly. 

 

With a satiated, if not full stomach, Cristiano easily fell asleep, remembering old memories. 

 

* * *

 

Cristiano dreamed of Rio, an old face he hadn’t thought of in years. 

 

The first thing he had noticed about Rio was the bulk around him, the way he moved like a panther, his broad chest and shoulders bespeaking the inherent power of the man. Rio was an older agent by the time Cristiano had met him, now semi-retired, spending his time training the fresh recruits. 

 

He had his favorites, and within Cristiano’s class, Leo and Cris both competed for Rio’s favor. For his own part, Cris always felt a surge of warmth in his chest when Rio walked over to quietly compliment him, to correct his stance using his large strong hands, the crooked smile he had when he was especially pleased.

 

Things were good, between all three of them then. Cris and Leo weren’t exactly friends, but they were cordial with each other. Sometimes the whole class of them would go out for drinks, and Rio would join them. Cris could listen for hours to Rio’s stories, the quiet, clever way he had of unfolding his stories, tales of brutality and wits and clever little tricks. Once, when Rio had drunk a little more than he should have, he told the class stories about his past lovers. Cristiano flushed a little when Rio’s eyes rested on him for a moment as he was describing his lover’s beauty, “Dark night eyes. A plush mouth made for sin. And wearing nothing but jasmine perfume”, as Rio spoke with a soft crooked smile that rested on Cristiano for a beat. And Cris’s treacherous little heart had skipped a beat. 

 

Leo clearly looked up to Rio as well, showing off more and more his freakish skills with weapons, assembly and utility and his trick shots that would have the whole class gaping. (And Cristiano fuming quietly, as Rio slung his arm around Leo, and paid only attention to him for the rest of the lesson.) 

 

But things were good then. 

 

Until Munich. 

 

When the mission that Rio was supposed to be working with Leo and Cris with, one of the many team missions they had done over the years, seemingly utterly mundane, had gone to an utter shitstorm in an teakettle, two of their teammates dead, Leo disappeared and presumed captured, Rio’s shoulder injured from the surprise gunfight sprung upon them, Cris dragging Rio to their safehouse, where they were supposed to bunker down for the next few days, absolutely not to show their faces outside. 

 

And then Cristiano woke up in the middle of the nights, his sheets soaked, his ass slick and wet, his body sheened with sweat from the sudden furnace fire that was roaring in his body. Cristiano had awoken with a gasp from his uneasy dreams, to find himself in the middle of his very first heat. 

 

Cristiano had whimpered out loud, his ass aching, his skin on fire, the sensation of the sheets against the back of his thighs far too much, arousing him, his cock at full attention now, the feedback of his arousal causing another spill of hot slick wet between his legs, now utterly ruining the mattress. 

 

“Cristiano?” Rio had murmured sleepily at his door. “Is something wrong?”

 

Cristiano opened his mouth to bite a reply, to warn Rio to get away, to please leave him, only as he inhaled, he breathed in the sharp flare of an alpha’s scent, the hot musk of Rio just several feet away from him, and he sobbed, bending down over into the pillow, muffling his cries. 

 

“Cristiano?” Rio’s voice had sharpened in concern. “I’m coming in.”

 

“No!” Cristiano had tried to stand up, only his legs were trembling and he ended up collapsing off the bed, sliding into a shaking puddle on the ground. As Rio opened the door, Cristiano tried to crawl, away from Rio. “Rio, get away from me!” 

 

Cristiano saw Rio walk in, and then see Cris propped up on his elbows on the ground, trying desperately to inch away. Rio scent was filling the room and Cristiano had to bite back a moan in his throat, stop himself from spreading his legs right there and begging with his body for Rio to fuck him. 

 

All his life, people had treated Cristiano differently once they knew his status. Alphas always either were too possessive with him, trying to touch his body in little ways like his shoulder or lower back, or they were contemptuous of him, so sure that someone like him didn’t belong in a field where violence and death ruled. Cristiano couldn’t count the number of times an alpha had tried to convince him that he belonged somewhere safe, where he would be protected, somewhere where he could be cherished, like perhaps their own bed. 

 

And of course, his very first mission, an alpha had scented him, somehow, and managed to drug him without noticing, before dragging Cristiano into the backseat of his own car. Cristiano remembered the rough stubble of the alpha’s chin, roughly kissing at his chest, biting at his nipples, and the enormous swell of his ugly cock as he knotted Cristiano, the way Cristiano couldn’t stop crying his whole first time, being fucked without foreplay meaning there wasn’t much slick to make his first time less painful, the pleasure not nearly enough for the humiliation as he had to limp back to the party, while he dripped come and his own slick down the trousers of his first tailored suit. 

 

Tears stung Cristiano’s eyes as he curled up into a ball, as Rio stepped closer to him. He didn’t want Rio to look at him differently. He didn’t want to be humiliated like his first time. 

 

A warm hand touched Cristiano’s back, and that touch alone nearly drove Cristiano mad, made his back tingle, his limbs want to wrap around Rio, beg him for mercy. “It’s all right, Cristiano. It’s all right.”

 

“Rio.” Cristiano whined. “Please. Leave me alone. I’m so sorry for this. I’m so sorry for making a mess like this…”

 

“This isn’t your fault.” Rio said gently. “Things like this happen sometime.” 

 

Cristiano sniffed. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. I don’t want you to treat me differently.”

 

“Cristiano.” Rio said, wiping a tear that was falling down Cristiano’s face. “I always knew.”

 

“What?” Now Cristiano turned to look at Rio. 

 

Rio’s nostrils was flaring, in and out, but otherwise the man kept rigid control over himself, still as iron, only his hand on Cristiano’s back moving in slow circles, soothing him as if he was a child. It was Rio’s scent, deepening and growing deeper, his natural instincts kicking in response to Cristiano’s scent, that gave away his arousal, brought more tears to Cristiano’s eyes. “Our background checks are quite thorough, Cris. Every higher up at my level knew about you.”

 

“Why didn’t you say anything then?” Cristiano whispered. 

 

“You’re not the only one here.” Rio said simply. “Every agent here is trained, regardless of their status, if they show promise. Believe me, I’ve seen plenty of people using their natural heat cycles like deadly weapons. It’s pretty effective.” 

 

“Why…aren’t you affected?” Cristiano asked, his chest heaving. 

 

“I am.” Rio said simply. “But I’ve been trained to resist. Believe me, it can be very useful.” 

 

“Rio…” Cristiano gasped. “I can’t do this. I…I can barely think right now. This is too much. I have to go—“

 

Rio’s hand stopped. “Go where?”

 

“Anywhere.” Fresh tears spilled from Cristiano’s eyes. “Rio, I can’t stop this. I need…I need someone. Or medication. I’m not trained, this is too much, I need—“ 

 

“Cristiano.” Rio’s face was now deadly calm, as he leaned in closer. “You can’t go outside. It’ll be your life if you do. Not to mention,” Rio’s hand tightened on Cristiano’s back, “I would never let anyone else touch you, force themselves on you like this. I’d kill them first.”

 

Cristiano’s eyes fluttered half shut, gazing up at Rio, the unnatural warmth of his body addling his brain, taking over, making him boneless, his back arching in a display of submission, his chin tipping back as he displayed his neck. He saw Rio sway for an instant, his own eyes closing, very nearly bending over Cristiano, very nearly touching him, before Rio opened his eyes, and leaned back. 

 

“Rio.” Cristiano sighed, his name honey sweet on his tongue, both a question and a prayer. “If it was you….you wouldn’t be forcing me.”

 

“Cristiano.” Rio closed his eyes shut again, as if in pain. 

 

“Rio…” Cristiano was begging now, his thighs spreading, and somehow Rio found his way between them, even with his eyes shut, as if they were magnets clicking together in the dark, in the way that universe had made them to fit together. “Rio, please. I’ve wanted you for so long, I’ve always wanted you, you’ve known I wanted you forever, you must have, the way you always smile at me, the way you always look at me, Rio please, please…” 

 

Rio, his eyes still shut, suddenly pinned Cristiano to the ground, wrists held down tightly, not cruelly but with no hope of escape. And Rio opened his eyes, and Cristiano gasped, looking into those dark, blown pupils, Rio’s scent now heavy and golden, filling his lungs, making his blood sing…

 

“Cristiano.” Rio whispered in Cris’s ear. “This is your last chance. After this, it’s too late. Tell me to let you go, and I promise I will.”

 

Cristiano, instead of answering, surged up, to finally press his mouth against Rio’s, starting off a series of an inevitable chain of actions, Rio’s hands tearing off his clothes, Rio’s cock throbbing against Cristiano’s hip, Cristiano laughing throatily as he embraced Rio with his arms around his neck in victory. 

* * *

 

On the second day of Cristiano’s heat, Leo walked in on them fucking on the wall of the storage closet. Cris couldn’t even bring himself to care when Leo strode off in a huff, burying his face into the crook of Rio’s neck, breathing in his scent, growing even slicker between his legs. 

 

On the fourth day of Cristiano’s heat, Cristiano walked out of the bathroom, dressed in one of Rio’s enormous button up shirts. He walked up to the massive master bed, where Rio was dead asleep in. He watched Rio sleep, for a long couple of minutes. 

 

After staring at Rio for a long time, Cristiano unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. He then lifted the covers, burrowing in, cuddling close and holding Rio, his back flush to Cris’s chest. 

 

Cristiano hadn’t fallen back to a doze when Rio began to stir. He stayed hidden in the covers as Rio began to yawn, and get up, disentangling himself from Cris. Cris heard Rio stride into the bathroom. 

 

There was a silence lasting a minute. 

 

When Rio walked back to the bedroom, Cristiano saw no point in feigning sleep. He sat up, to face Rio, who was staring at him wide eyed, with a piece of plastic in his hand. 

 

“Is this right?” Rio asked Cristiano, who was shivering in the covers. 

 

“Yes.” Cristiano said in a small voice. “I took three of them. They’re all positive.”

 

Cristiano hid his face into the covers, as he heard Rio step closer to him, sit down on the bed. “I’m sorry Rio. It was my first cycle. I hadn’t…the doctor said there was no point in starting contraceptives until my first heat came. It was so late….I thought I’d never have one…” 

 

“Cristiano.” Rio said. 

 

Cristiano looked up. Rio was staring at his face, with a wide eyed, strange expression on his face. “Do you want this?”

 

Cristiano shivered again. 

 

And then nodded his head. 

 

“I do, Rio. I want this child.” He said softly. “If you don’t—“

 

But Rio didn’t wait for Cristiano to finish his sentence. He whooped, so loud the pigeons outside the window took off in flight. Rio grasped Cristiano by the waist, and in an easy movement, was spinning him around the room, Cristiano laughing as he held on to Rio for dear life, Rio laughing his joy into Cristiano’s shoulder. Finally, Rio had put him down on his feet again, pulling Cristiano close, his eyes alight with tenderness, his crooked smile never before so pleased, as he bent down to kiss Cristiano thoroughly. 

 

“What do you want to name it?” Rio asked when they had pulled apart for air. 

 

“Whatever you choose.” Cristiano replied airily, his relief making him sassy. “As long as it’s pretty.”

 

“Better name it for it’s papa, then.” Rio said, fondly. “There’s no one in the world as beautiful as him.”

* * *

 

They had been so happy, for that brief amount of time. 

 

* * *

 

When Cristiano had received the news, about Rio, how he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, the explosion so quick that Rio probably hadn’t felt a thing, Cristiano had dropped the phone, and screamed. 

 

At Rio’s funeral, he stared at Rio’s family, a medley of brothers and sisters and cousins, sad faced and solemn, as they lowered the casket down in the earth. 

 

They didn’t know that Rio had anyone to survive him. 

 

Cristiano had gently pressed the flat of his hand against his belly. Even with the months, he was barely showing. In a loose fitted button up, and a thick black overcoat over it, no one could tell. 

 

He could have told them, about Rio and him, about Rio’s child in his belly. 

 

But he didn’t. 

 

Cristiano knew, better than anyone, how unpredictable the field could be. And he was selfish in his grief. He wanted the child, all to himself, not to be shared. And that way, Rio’s child would be safer, from any enemies looking to make a score even with Rio.

 

He found it easy to talk with Irina, who was also at the funeral. She was an old ex, an intense relationship that had fizzled out as she had moved into administration, and he into fieldwork. 

 

“But I’m looking to leave.” She said coolly, smoking a cigarette, as they both watched the rain beat down the grass in the cemetery. “You can’t get old in this line of work. Eventually, like poor Rio, it always catches up to us.”

 

Cristiano nodded numbly. 

 

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He said, softly. 

 

Irina turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. 

 

“I need to ask you a favor.” 

 

* * *

 

When Cristiano awoke, from a haze of old memories weaving with impossible dreams, he found himself drenched in sweat. 

 

Why was it so hot all of a sudden. Cristiano wondered to himself. True, it was early summer, but this weather was still quite unseasonable. 

 

Then Cristiano, his sight still blurry, a strange dizziness in his head, realized where he was. He was still laid out on the sofa, his long legs brushing next to Leo’s. He was about to murmur an apology, for both falling asleep and hogging all the sofa space, when he noticed Leo’s expression. 

 

Leo was staring at him, mouth open, panting quickly, his eyes burning with an emotion Cris couldn’t quite identify, his fingers gripping into the sofa cushions, leaving deep indents. Cristiano noticed that there were similar rents into the cushions, as if Leo had been digging his fingers into the cushions for a while. 

 

A slight note of warning sounded in Cristiano’s chest, as he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong. 

 

And then the scent of Leo’s arousal burned the air, Cristiano’s eyes widening as he realized what was happening. 

 

“Shit!” Cristiano hissed. “Fuck!” Now that he was fully awake, Cristiano realized all the warning signs, his body temperature raging into a furnace, the way his ass was leaking more than just come, the first signs of slickness beginning to wet his inner thighs, the way the fabric of the sofa brushed against his peaked nipples made Cristiano whine from the dizzy mix of oversensitivity and absolute lust. 

 

Cristiano quickly tabulated back, realizing he had missed all the early warnings—how easy it had been to take Geri’s monster cock by the end of the night, how simple it had been to bend Neymar to his beck and call—

 

“You’re in heat.” Leo bit out. 

 

“No!” Cristiano shook his head desperately, his chest heaving for air, air that he desperately needed, yet tainted with the sharpening scent of an alpha being pushed to the edge of control. 

 

“I’m guessing you forgot your medication.” Leo ground on.

 

“No shit!” Cristiano hissed, his temper getting the best of him for an instant. “How long have I been like this?”

 

“Maybe half an hour.” Leo replied. 

 

“Half an hour? Are you stupid?” Cristiano snapped. “Every alpha on board will be able to scent me by now. You’re going to have a mass mutiny on your hands!” 

 

Leo smiled, a small flash of humor despite his flushed face. “Isn’t that what you want?” 

 

“I don’t want to be gang mounted by a crowd of howling little beasts!” Cristiano hissed. “Never mind the fact I’m not on—“

 

Leo’s eyes widened a fraction. “Not on what?”

 

Cristiano could have bit his tongue out for that slip. “It’s nothing! Stop looking at me like that, I can’t think!” Cristiano tried to sit up, but his arms were shaking, his body responding to the scent of the alpha so close to him, refusing to let him run away, every cell in his body begging him to lay back on the sofa, to wait for his capture. “I need…I need…” Cristiano tried to finish his sentence, trying to clear the spinning of his head, the roaring pulse of want in his body. 

 

“Cris.” And suddenly Leo’s hands were on his shoulders, pushing him down, and Cristiano nearly cried out from how good his hands felt against his bare skin, the touch of Leo’s skin igniting a fresh wave of need in Cristiano, Cristiano feeling a fresh pulse of hot wetness slick down between his legs, his body readying itself to be mounted by an alpha, the scent of Leo making Cristiano arch his body by instinct, to make it easier for Leo to enter him, knot him. 

 

“Are you on the pill right now?” Leo was asking him, his voice sounding as if far away. Despite the terseness of Leo’s voice, his hands were wandering now, all over Cristiano’s skin, scent marking Cris as his, Cristiano heaving a sob from his fiery touch. 

 

“No.” Cristiano whispered. 

 

“Shit.” Leo growled. “The whole entire ship is going to murder each other trying to have you.” 

 

“Not if,” Cristiano breathed. “Not if you have me first.” 

 

Leo paused, staring down at Cristiano. 

 

“It’s the only way, Leo.” Cristiano panted. As he spoke, he let his thighs fall apart on the couch, the scent of his own soaking arousal drenching the air, making Leo inhale sharply. “If the others, or God forbid, Gerard knots me like this…they’ll never let Virgil have me. They’ll kill anyone who tries to touch me first.”

 

Leo gritted his teeth, but his hands kept travelling all over Cristiano’s skin, mixing his scent even more with Cris’s. 

 

“They’d kill a lot of good men, Leo.” Cristiano whispered. “You’re the one in charge. Everyone would think you were incompetent, after that.”

 

“You’re just trying to manipulate me.” Leo growled. “You’re hoping I won’t just throw you to the sharks and let all those men fuck you.”

 

“You want other men to fuck me, Leo?” Cristiano challenged, his dark eyes flashing. The scent of Cris’s arousal grew even darker and stronger, soaking Cris's thighs, and Leo was groaning out loud, dropping on his elbows as he bracketed Cristiano, trapping him underneath him. “I’d fucking love that, Leo. You’d have no idea how much I’d love that. Me writhing in ecstasy as a crowd of men shove their knots into my slick, hot body. Maybe a couple alphas kill each other, who cares? As long as one of them still gets to fuck me and fill my ass with their knot, fuck me so full until I can’t help but get pregnant, until I’m screaming as I come, again and again and again—“

 

Leo roared, and punched the couch cushion right beside Cristiano’s head. As Leo heaved himself up, away from Cristiano, he hissed back. “You’re not getting what you want so easily, I might as well find Geri and lock him into this room with you, then shoot him when he comes out—“

 

“Fuck you.” Cristiano hissed. 

 

And in a neat tackle, Cristiano had managed to take Leo off his feet, knocking him to the ground. 

 

Leo would have ordinarily been up to the task of countering Cristiano. 

 

But Cristiano was stronger than Leo. He always had been. 

 

It was desperation as Cristiano unbuttoned and yanked down Leo’s trousers, fully trapping Leo with frenzied strength, Leo shouting as Cristiano held him down, pulled down his briefs, releasing Leo’s trapped erection, a throbbing, leaking cock, desperate to knot Cris. 

 

“Mine.” Cristiano snarled at Leo, lining his ass up to Leo’s cock, its bulbous heated girth feeling so good against his slick entrance, his ass spasming, desperate for Leo’s cock. Cristiano would have loved to play more with Leo, tease him to the edge of endurance, then finally, finally let him seat himself inside of him. But Leo was fighting back, just as hard, and Cris had no time to waste.

 

And so with a groan, Cristiano slowly ground down on Leo’s cock, the fat succulent girth of it entering him so easily, stretching out his hole, Cris’s slickness wetting the inside of Leo’s inner thighs now, all over Leo’s lower belly. 

 

Cristiano was scent marking Leo, just as thoroughly. 

 

Leo tried to buck Cristiano off, but Cristiano held on grimly, until he felt Leo’s knot firmly filling his ass, firmly capturing him, until Cristiano and Leo were firmly caught together, a bond of slickness and hard flesh, no release for either of them until Leo came in Cristiano’s belly, ripe for the taking. 

 

“You little shit.” Leo hissed at him, as Cristiano smugly let go of his limbs, shimmying a little on his seat on Leo’s hips, showing Leo wordlessly that they were truly knotted together now.

 

And suddenly, Leo had twisted, and Cristiano was falling with him, and in a swift upheaval, Leo was now on top of Cristiano, lifting him, picking him up and heaving him on the sofa, shoving Cristiano until he was flush against an armrest, his ankles spread against Leo’s shoulders, Leo nearly bending Cristiano in half. 

 

“If you want me to fill your belly so bad,” Leo snarled at Cristiano, “I’ll just have to give it to you.”

 

And without another word, Leo was thrusting, a unforgivingly rough taking that made Cristiano yelp, his ass dripping even more slick, soaking into the sofa as Leo kept taking him mercilessly, and Cristiano might have complained about how uncomfortable it was to be bent in half like this, getting rugburn on his back, only Leo’s cock, by virtue of their position, was ramming hard against the spot that was making Cristiano keen, making him melt into the sofa, the scent of Leo taking him making him shiver with a pleasure that wrung him from head to foot. 

 

Cristiano heard himself yelping, his body arching sweetly to meet Leo’s in an electric arc, surrendering so easily to his rival, letting him have everything, and yet this was still Leo’s defeat, this was still Cristiano’s triumph—

 

And Leo was coming, Cristiano crying out as Leo jabbed into his ass, filling it full, his own peak following closely after, holding onto Leo so hard, begging Leo to fuck him again, cram him full of his come—

 

And then Leo’s mouth was on top of him, somehow, kissing him messily but with greed, his tongue thrusting into Cristiano’s as if he wanted to fuck his mouth as well, and Cristiano suddenly saw a flash a memory, him and Rio in the storage closet, Cristiano turning to look at a red faced Leo, who was breathing rapidly, staring at Cris, with a strange expression that he now realized was not disgust, but want. 

 

 _Oh_. Cristiano thought. 

* * *

 

Cristiano sulked as Leo stalked out of the room, his arms and legs thoroughly tied to the sofa. 

 

“You’re going to stay here.” Leo snarled, a return of his previous bad temper. “I’m going down to the hold to keep control of the men in there. 

 

Cristiano had secretly smiled to himself as Leo locked the door behind him. There was no denying that his instincts had fully kicked in, protecting Cristiano from getting ganged up from the other alphas. 

 

It was too bad that Cristiano had no intention of staying put in this room. 

 

After all, he had been trained on how to use his heat like a weapon. 

 

* * *

 

“Neymar!” Cristiano wailed, his voice raw with want. 

 

The boy was staring at him, swaying where he stood, his fresh young scent like spring grass filling the air. A youthful, stupid alpha, just perfect. He even still had the keys in his shaking hands. 

 

“Baby please.” Cristiano begged. “I want you. I need you.”

 

Neymar took a dizzy step forward, his eyes heavy and blown, just about to unbutton his trousers when Cristiano whined. “No Ney, not here. Leo might come back anytime. He’ll know it was you.”

 

Cristiano was thrusting his hips in midair, begging with his body, the slick between his legs running down in drops on the ruined couch. “You have to cut me free, baby. Then take me back to my room. With the dress too. I’ll make it so good for you. I want your hot knot in me so bad. I just want you in already. Baby, please!”

 

Without another word, Neymar had stepped forward, was cutting Cristiano loose with a knife he had flicked out of nowhere. Cristiano noted dizzily where he pocketed the knife. 

 

And then Neymar was pulling him up, pulling Cristiano into his arms, and they both dizzily swayed into each others embrace, Neymar bringing teeth down to bite Cristiano at the crook of his neck, where his scent was strongest, and Cristiano tipping his neck back in submission, letting him for a moment. Then he gently pushed Neymar back. 

 

“Not here.” He panted. “Take me back to my room.”

 

And Neymar had snatched Cristiano’s hand, and was nearly dragging him in a full sprint down the hallways, Cristiano running with him, and then they were both bursting through the doorway, and Neymar was slamming the door shut behind them, clutching Cristiano tightly to him, the young alpha’s scent growing thick, making Cristiano’s head muzzy for a second, his legs automatically parting, the slick dripping down his legs and wetting the floor, Neymar running on instinct, just about to unzip himself and shove himself inside Cristiano right there. 

 

But then Cristiano whined, and twisted free again. “A show baby. I promised you a show. My dress.”

 

“Okay, okay.” Neymar panted. He strode into the bathroom, and a moment later, came out with a beautiful white lace slip, similar to the one Cristiano had worn the day Neymar had seen him. It had exquisite lacing at the breast, designed to just barely cover Cristiano’s nipples, designed to be soft as feathers against taut nipples when someone played with them. 

 

Cristiano sighed, and without another word, stepped into it, pulling the tiny delicate straps over his shoulders, straightening the lace just so over his piercings with careful hands. 

 

“God, Cristiano, you look so good.” Neymar breathed. “Now, come give me that show you promised.” 

 

“So I did.” Cristiano murmured, walking over seductively to Neymar, slowly, running a hand up Neymar’s shirt front, another hand running over the back of Neymar’s neck. 

 

And then Neymar inhaled, his eyes wide, but it was far too late, Cristiano was already removing the delicate pin from his neck, the one he had retrieved from the lace of his dress while adjusting it. It was a small pinprick of a moment, but Neymar was already swaying drunkenly, eyes closing, and the next moment, was falling heavily into Cristiano’s arms. 

 

“Hope you can swim, baby.” Cristiano murmured into Neymar’s ear. As he easily carried up the unconscious boy up to the deck, he snagged a life jacket along the way.

 

* * *

 

 _Where was Gerard?_ Cristiano wondered to himself, as he sliced the throat of the last man on board. 

 

While he had been methodically working his way through all the ship, he had been unable to find Leo, or Gerard. Most likely, they had both taken the rescue boat, and had taken off to Virgil’s island, to gain more reinforcements. To control the insurrection of alphas, who had all gone into a frenzy with Cristiano’s scent driving them uncontrollable, furious and ready to kill any other alpha on sight. 

 

They hadn’t thought that Cristiano would have worked himself loose. They wouldn’t have dreamed that Cristiano had already killed every man on board himself, wreaking his terrible vengeance on them, bringing them down in poison-mediated agonies, or the quick and merciful slash of Neymar’s knife. 

 

The betas were harder to find, more cagey, more distrustful of him. But with Cristiano’s training, it was still amusingly easy to bring them down, to hunt them down in their hiding places, one by one. 

 

And now it was dark, though dawn would be approaching quickly. The silence on the boat was deafening, so Cristiano walked up the stairs, to the deck, to lean against the railing, breathing in the cool of the sea salt air. 

 

Cristiano could try to escape. Turn the ship around, steer it to somewhere new. Take his newly won chance to escape. 

 

But when he thought of how he would find his son again, he sighed, and folded on the railing. 

 

As long as Virgil lived, Cristiano was trapped. 

 

And as long as Gerard lived, his son was in danger. 

 

Cristiano knew in his heart, instantly, who he would pick to save. No other choice. 

 

So he went down back into the main cabin. His heat was still burning him up from inside, still making him dizzy. 

 

He would depend on that. Depend on his scent, depend on his weapons, as he lay in wait for Gerard to come back to him. 

 

* * *

 

When Leo and Gerard, along with a crack team of betas grimly pulled up to the main boat, the silence struck them all as ominous. 

 

“We’re not reaching anybody inside, sir.” Someone spoke to Leo. “We’ve been hailing them for an hour.”

 

Leo jerked his head roughly. “No point talking now. Let’s go.” 

 

Gerard held out his hand. “I’ll go in first.” 

 

Leo looked at him. 

 

“Don’t look at me like that, Leo. If the little slut’s all tied up like you said, then I can’t touch him anyways. And Virgil hired me especially for brute muscle against other alphas. The best thing for me to do is to go in with my team and soften any resistance up, and then you to come in and clean everything up. Like we practiced.” 

 

Leo’s eyes minutely narrowed, but then, he nodded, waving Gerard through first. 

 

* * *

 

Things went pear shaped when the team went inside the main cabin, almost immediately. 

 

The first man to go in first triggered a trap, and he went down without a word, a giant lance of sharpened wood, as if broken off from furniture, piercing through his chest. 

 

The other two men right beside Gerard sputtered, and then he fell down into the ground as well, a sharp needle shining in their throats. 

 

Geri’s team had been trained for brawling, brute strength alphas barreling down at them. Not for delicate little death traps made in the dark. 

 

Gerard turned, knowing only one man who made such precise, deadly weapons, especially with a touch of poison—

 

breathing in, deeply, he thought he caught the sliver of a hint of Cristiano’s scent in the air, hot and desperate, his heat still in full rage, his scent signaling his absolute need, his lust. 

 

He bellowed, and then gave full chase, chasing down that scent, as it grew warmer and sharper, a scent like cinnamon and musk and jasmine, a hint of panic in it, as Cristiano realized Gerard knew where he was, and was forcing himself to run away from him. 

 

And then there was a shut door, only Cristiano should have really known better, as if anything like doors could hold an alpha like him back from what he wanted, and with a roar, Gerard was slamming into the wood, splintering with his every tackle, finally bursting through the wreck of the door, spinning on its ruined hinges. 

 

And there was Cristiano, propping himself up on the back of the sofa, his legs shaking, his slickness dripping wetly down his ankles and on the floor. 

 

Gerard charged at Cristiano, who suddenly from behind his back, whipped out a flash of silver, a knife—

 

except Cristiano’s knees buckled and his aim went wrong, and Cristiano’s knife spun harmlessly out of the way. 

 

And now, matched strength to strength, it was utterly easy for Gerard to overpower Cristiano. 

 

* * *

 

“No!” Cristiano cried openly as Gerard tore his dress, tore his defenses, easily ripped it away from him and tossed it aside. 

 

“Where’s your poison now, slut?” Gerard hissed, undoing his trousers, as he easily spread apart Cristiano’s thighs, Cristiano’s scent growing stronger in response to his body, oh so sweetly ready to be fucked. “Is that how you brought down the alphas in the ship? Let them finger fuck you and lick your nipples? You must have been so desperate after you were finished. All fucked open and ready and no one to knot you.” 

 

“But you haven’t got any lipstick on” Gerard noticed, as he thrust his cock against Cristiano’s hip, the slick of it making him groan. “Means I can have your mouth.” 

 

And so Gerard did, kissing Cristiano’s mouth hungrily, devouring him whole, all teeth and taking while Cristiano cried and sobbed underneath him. 

 

“Get off!” Cristiano moaned. “Get off me!”

 

“Why?” Gerard asked, as he plunged his own fingers inside Cristiano, deep into that wet, hot hole, Cristiano’s ass immediately spasming around Gerard’s fingers, trying to swallow them in deeper. “Look at how desperate you are for me.”

 

Gerard pulled his fingers free, and forced them through Cristiano’s mouth. “Taste for yourself how wet you are. You want this knot so bad.”

 

Something in the scent of the air caught at Gerard’s notice, and he sniffed in the air deeply for a moment. “Holy shit. You’re not only in heat, you’re not even on the pill.” Gerard began to laugh. 

 

“Oh, you’re going to love this.” Gerard crooned. “You’re going to really love my knot, you cumslut. You’re going to take every fucking drop of it, and you’re going to beg for me to put a kid in your belly.”

 

Cristiano screamed as Gerard entered him, trying desperately to fight him off, buck him off, any way he could. But Gerard slapped Cristiano, so hard he saw stars, and while he lay dizzy and limp for a moment, Gerard took the opportunity to thrust inside him, to get the friction necessary to seat his knot properly in Cristiano. 

 

Cristiano’s hand raked out, and scratched Gerard down his face. Gerard snatched Cristiano’s wrist and twisted it, a sharp movement that was followed by a short scream from Cristiano, as his face turned white. 

 

Gerard only let go when he felt his knot was fully caught inside of Cristiano now, Cristiano crying underneath him, sobbing tears, wailing with every stab of Gerard’s cock into the very center of him. 

 

“You’d look cute when you get fat with my kid.” Gerard crooned as he continued fucking into Cris. “See your tummy get all swollen and big. Maybe you’d put on more weight on your thighs and ass. I like my sluts thick.” 

 

Cristiano was still wailing, and Gerard was honestly getting a little tired of it. “No, Geri, noooo.” He mocked Cristiano. “Is that all you can say?” 

 

And Gerard, feeling his peak coming closer and closer, the slut twitching around him, desperate for his load, his scent growing more and more thicker as Gerard sped up his thrusting, as Cristiano let his thighs fall apart, now crying out his pleasure, letting Gerard take him. 

 

And as Gerard groaned his pleasure, filling that hot little ass full, Cristiano’s ass twitching around him—

 

* * *

 

Cristiano felt Gerard pause, and thought he was finally finished. 

 

And then Gerard slumped over, his mouth open, blood trickling out, his full weight falling on top of Cristiano. 

 

He didn’t realize what happened for a moment. 

 

Until he saw Leo behind Gerard, his mouth thinned, his nostrils flaring, his fist white knuckling Neymar’s knife, that was shining red with blood, Gerard’s blood, dripping red on the ground. 

 

Cristiano stared numbly at Leo, heaving underneath Gerard’s mass weighing him down like bricks, the knot still obscenely holding him fast to the dead man. 

 

Leo’s eyes never left Cristiano’s, even as the other team members flooded into the room, guns readied, pointing at Cris. 

* * *

 

 

Leo stared at Cristiano’s prone figure, curled up in a ball on the pallet, looking oddly frail dressed in the shapeless hospital gown as a team of healthcare workers worked around him, taking his vitals, setting his IV drip, and injecting medication into his IV line. 

 

Leo was standing outside the one way window. When another man in green scrubs paused for a moment, to brush a lock of hair out of Cristiano’s eyes, he had to dig his nails into his palms to stop himself from punching the reinforced glass. 

 

The door suddenly opened, and Leo turned to see a doctor striding in, clipboard in hand. 

 

“Well?” Leo asked shortly, nodding at the doctor to report.

 

“We can’t confirm his diagnosis 100% right now,” The doctor spoke, scribbling something into the board. “But just looking at his hormone levels and other initial blood work, I would say with confidence that he’s pregnant.” 

 

Leo kept his face still, though his heart turned over in his chest, a quick and painful beat. 

 

“Is it Gerard’s?” He asked, stone faced, knowing as he spoke how stupid his question was. The doctor, a consummate professional, only shook his head. 

 

“Impossible to tell paternity at this early stage. But judging from labs, I would say he was impregnated from his latest cycle.” The doctor paused, to look up at Leo. “No one else, as far as you know, had intimate relations with him after his cycle peaked?” 

 

“Only Gerard, during.” Leo said.

 

The doctor’s mouth thinned, but he only continued writing on his sheet of papers. “As long as it was only him…if there was anyone else, we would have to report to the top and conduct an investigation to find the other partners.” 

 

Leo nodded, a touch of grimness around the set of his jaw. 

 

“It would have been likely,” The doctor continued speaking, “If any other alphas had relations with the patient even earlier in his cycle, that they would be the father. The patient’s cycle was ending unusually early if your subordinate had impregnated him only a few hours before. It may be worth looking into any other possible partners.”

 

“No.” Leo gritted out. “Cristiano’s due to meet Virgil soon. He’ll be disposed of, soon enough. As long as your team keeps quiet, he’ll be dead before anyone realizes.” 

 

“It’s your team.” The doctor finished scribbling, looking up. “Your call. Anyways, another hour on the IV drip, and he’ll be fully back to his baseline cycle. ” 

 

Leo curtly nodded, dismissing the doctor. When the man had left, letting the door fall shut behind him, Leo slowly reached into his breast pocket, removing a nondescript black flip phone.

 

He went through his contacts, and selected the only number he had saved on the phone. 

 

Two rings in, and a voice answered Leo’s call. “Lionel. What do I owe the pleasure of this call for?” 

 

“I need a favor.” Leo ground out. 

 

 


End file.
